


Passion Flare

by Kartaylir



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: F/F, Fucked with the hilt of a weapon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28639512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kartaylir/pseuds/Kartaylir
Summary: Aphrodite is keen to give her favor to those she finds worthy.
Relationships: Aphrodite/Megaera (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 74





	Passion Flare

The shades of Tartarus had all scattered before her. If any of the scattered bones in the room had possessed thoughts of movement they were quickly dissuaded by the way Megaera tapped the handle of her whip against her hand, by the paced rhythm of her footsteps.

At least someone showed proper respect. She made a rough noise as she exhaled, then turned away from the crimson waters of the River Styx. It was only then that the glint of something oddly shaped and pink caught her eye. She nearly dismissed it as just some other relic of the shades about, but given recent incidents better not to overlook any oddity, no matter how small. She clasped the whip firmly between her fingers.

A closer look turned the impression of pink turned to something heart-shaped and glowing, soft in a way most unfitting for this place. Megaera reached her hand out and pink light spilled out to gleam across her bracers. The light quickly resolved into the translucent form of a goddess, clothed in nothing save her pink-tinged hair.

“Aphrodite,” Megaera said.

“Oh, hello Megaera, what a delight to hear your voice. I’ve been told the most fascinating tales of you as of late.”

A snort, and Megaera hesitated for just a second or two before she pulled her hand back. 

“I’ve been so lonely waiting for anyone to accept this call. Even Theseus has had no challengers to face yet today.” Something about the softness of Aphrodite’s voice felt disarming, not that Megaera was inclined to trust it. 

“You’ve been helping Theseus?”

“Truly, dear, you didn’t expect he’d been dealing so well with your errant Prince on his own, did you? How could any mortal compare to the first of the furies?”

The illusion of Aphrodite’s presence seemed to solidify as she spoke, her hands brushing across Megaera’s shoulders, the tip of her wing. Megaera tightened her grip on her weapon.

“And how did you hear about that?”

“How quick to jealousy you are, dearest Megaera. But I’m much more interested in you. It is such a shame you never did come and visit us on Olympus, I’ve missed you so.”

“I don’t need your aid.” But she didn’t resist as one hand tangled itself in her hair, as the other wrapped around the hand which held the whip. As she felt the impression of Aphrodite’s body brushing past hers, the goddesses’ hair catching on gilded spikes and draping itself across the black of Megaera’s wing.

“Then why did you answer my call?”

Megaera said nothing, but she didn't flinch away from that illusion, from the sparkles of pink around her limbs, the flow of air like hair, an impression of presence out of the corner of her eye.

The impression of a hand. She caught it, pulled it to her lips, to the curve of them that hid sharp teeth. Felt the press of each finger outstretched against them. Heard a peal of laughter, more delicate than anything usual in these halls.

“It’s not your aidI’m after,” she said between the touches to her lips. Something derisive lingered in her tone, but softer. Sharp rather than biting

Aphrodite uttered a sound of soft, surprised delight. The phantom hands shifted, one reaching for the back of Megaera’s neck, the other across her whip, left it sparkling with traces of that soft pink.

The touch of the Aphrodite’s lips on hers. The hand in her hair pulled her head back, further into that kiss. Tongues intertwined, breasts pressed against her armor as she leaned backward even more.

The other hand teased at her whip further, blessed it, then ran down across stomach and leg, low enough to brush at her greaves, to follow the polished line back up toward Megaera’s thigh. 

“Let me give your weapon a special blessing,” Aphrodite said, and it seemed her fingers were solid enough to reach inside, to carry the wetness of that up across Megaera’s clit, back up over her body once again.

Semi-transparent fingers closed around the handle of the whip, and Megaera slid her hand up to let Aphrodite take the handle, then closed her grip once she’d granted enough leave with it. Enough give in it to let her hold Aphrodite near, to tempt with the pretense of vulnerability.

Vulnerability was a strange matter among the gods.

She bit her lip at the first feeling of that handle against her thigh. At how wet those fingers had made it, how she tasted ambrosia on Aphrodite’s lips.

The goddess was slow, however. Her fingers held the handle in place, all save for thumb and forefinger. These she stretched up further, pressure over the now-wet clit that built into motion. Up and down at first, then circular until Megaera was glad she had little need to breathe.

It’s only then that she felt the handle. It seemed larger than the small thing she’d tapped against her hands so many times. Or perhaps—she gasped at the angle of it, nearly hissed at the shifts of pressure.

Her own hand seemed between Aphrodite’s legs, then. That translucent body was not quite whole, and yet she could trace the patterns of flesh, feel the tangle of hair, the areola beneath her other hand. Aphrodite floated still, there and not and then another press of that handle and Megaera’s hands clenched in their places. Her body bent backward as if the River Styx were to take her once again.

When finally she reassembled herself, Aphrodite was gone, save for the glow around the whip, the way it dripped down from the handle to the leather strands. Save for an echo of soft laughter in Megaera’s ear. 

“I do so hope this becomes a regular arrangement.”

“Tsch,” Megaera said to the empty room. “I won’t make any promises.”


End file.
